I believe that music is God's voice.

I think in terms of emotions. And feelings. So sometimes what I say may not always be clear. But creatively, there's a lot to be said for that way of thinking.

I still believe that something is right only when it feels right.

If there's not love present, it's much, much harder to function. When there's love present, it's easier to deal with life.

You say how you feel, and songs don't lie. Songs are the most honest form of human expression there is--there's nothing that lies about a song.

Summer means happy times and good sunshine. It means going to the beach, going to Disneyland, having fun.

The idea of taking a song, envisioning the overall sound in my head and then bringing the arrangement to life in the studio...well, that gives me satisfaction like nothing else.

I'm not a genius. I'm just a hard-working guy.

Every now and then I hear voices in my head, but not very clear. I can't understand what they are saying. It's a mental illness. I have been diagnosed as a manic depressive.

Humor - it helps to make the vibe better - it loosens up the vibrations.

I wake up in the morning and I say 'Ahh! Today's the day for a song! I'm going to write a song today!' And I do. I write a song.

Solitude is heaven bliss.

Students in the school of prayer never graduate from the school of the Gospel.

Our greatness lies not so much in being able to remake the world as in being able to remake ourselves.

We're half the people we should be half the Congress.

Words are, quite simply, weapons. How a person or an act or a thought looks depends entirely upon how - and by whom - it is described.

Changing mass consciousness is an individual responsibility.

Technology will move faster than governments, so don't legislate before you understand the consequences.

Books are the true means of acquiring talent. If one does not read one remains ignorant, and ignorance can never produce true painters.

What good is any feeling we may have about ourselves, if it only lasts as long as others agree to it?

...You deserve to be happy. What can I do?" Don't send me away, I thought. He looked at me again. "What do you want?" "I want to taste an apple," I said. And your lips, I thought.